


can we run?

by CampionSayn



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Alternate Universe - Road Trip, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Tumblr Prompt, non-explicit sex mentioned, trying to recover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2018-05-02
Packaged: 2019-05-01 02:22:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14510436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CampionSayn/pseuds/CampionSayn
Summary: Anonymous asked:if you're still taking prompts, could you do a fic where connor and evan were friends but evan helped connor run away and everyone thinks connor died instead?Yes.





	can we run?

**Author's Note:**

> Technically speaking, I followed the guidelines as much as I was able. This trope has just been done a lot recently, so...this was HARD. And it ended up WAY longer than it was supposed to.

He has the memory of how this all began. Night separating the reality of the moment Connor chose to take the pills he'd stolen from his mother's medicine cabinet and ran the way to a shady grove in Ellison park.

He remembers sobbing loud and ugly under the vast expanse of trees, thinking on his day at school that had more or less passed in a blur after he'd signed Hansen's cast and not given him the chance to impart parting words of 'gotcha' or 'freak' when Connor had rushed out with the letter.

Connor remembers clear as the sound of his head hitting a tree root, and the pain before the dark of unconscious, opening the bottle to toss back the pills and something calling out like a terrified rabbit.

Waking up the next morning was unexpected and fuzzy, a throbbing in his skull echoing his heartbeat back at him, but it seemed unimportant over the sounds of cars passing and the highway moving under him.

The back seat of his car had been cleared out of the garbage he usually amassed after about a week before his mom whined like a goat and he picked out what he felt like getting rid of in little grocery store bags. And the seat was more comfortable than usual, given that the spare shirts he tossed back in the summer and forgot about, as well as his coat were piled under his head and giving him cover like a blanket.

But the sounds coming from his music player were not sounds he would have ever associated with the jeep cherokee he'd picked out as soon as he'd gotten his license and was allowed to keep in spite of his parents despising the very thought of it sitting in their driveway.

At best, it was usually blasting his Daft Punk covers or Adele when he was in a reasonable mood, and at worst Zoe had dragged him home and played her shitty Miles Davis or found the one song from Iyeoka he kept and put it on repeat.

Instead, he woke up to the sounds of what he could barely make out to be some young man in his mid-twenties, speaking softly but with power,

_"...Sailing these seas or on the hills, or waking in the night... Thoughts, silent thoughts of Time and Space and Death, like waters flowing..."_

When they got to know each other better and after Connor had convinced Hansen to let the taller play from the rickety MP3 player more often, he would learn that this particular piece was a poem from Walt Whitman used as a monologue in the medical 'ER' drama series. This piece probably an instant fix to stave off the advancing moments of tension and anxiety that existed in his driver on that morning.

But when he'd looked up from his place in the back, far more comfortable than he'd had the right to be, Connor had not asked what was playing, but rather, "What the fuck are you doing driving my car?"

Not the best icebreaker for a guy he'd seen around since kindergarten that he knew got spooked at loud noises and probably, definitely, hadn't slept all night; but Connor learned from his mistakes, despite what everyone else seemed to think.

Especially when Hansen hit the gas at full force, caused them to speed for thirty seconds, both of them screaming that whole heart-stopping moment, and then slowed back down so he could tap the blinker and pull over onto the side of the road.

And then the kid opened the driver's door and puked.

* * *

"Did you lose your fucking mind?"

"...A little-little bit. Maybe. Yes."

"You do realize that this qualifies as kidnapping right? I did not give you permission to knock me out, take my keys, or clean out my car; which is a super fucked up thing to do in the middle of the night, by the way."

"I know, I'm sorry, but you looked uncomfortable-"

"Don't interrupt. Where was I? Oh, right; you threw out my pills and drove me, us, all the way from Rochester to...where even are we right now?"

"Um."

He almost hit Hansen then, but he had seemed so small and pathetic that Connor couldn't summon the energy to raise his arm from where it was settled behind his head, trying to make the shotgun seat headrest more tolerable.

"You kidnapped me, and you don't even know where you were going to take me."

It wasn't a question, but it still set Hansen off.

"I WASN'T KIDNAPPING YOU; I JUST DIDN'T WANT YOU TO HURT YOURSELF!"

The red in his cheeks would have been amusing, a button to poke and prod at endlessly until Hansen left him alone, but Connor took into account that the dude was actually, truly upset by the implications of Connor being...not around anymore.

Which pissed him off and set Connor on the defensive, regardless of what it must have looked like to the grand total of five cars that passed them on the highway as the dawn actually began its rise and the chill from the night was leaving. His pointing at the other and Hansen realizing he'd fucked up and bunching in on himself when Connor began again must have made them look as if they were in an abusive relationship or something, but one does not think on things when someone like Connor, with his backlog of mental issues and Evan with his own history, get into a moment.

Things just happen.

"Well, why the fuck not? Everyone thinks it'd be a good thing if I disappeared off the face of the planet; what makes you so special?"

Hansen had not had words to supply his answer, but it was a strong redirect when he pointed to the signature on his cast and pulled out the scrap of paper Connor had tucked into his back pocket and forgotten about.

"...I owe you, in a way. Kinda. Sorta. And...You said you didn't want to be there anymore."

* * *

There was a call and a message sent to Evan's mother, telling her that he was going away for a little while, he had money saved up from his job  _(wow, and if Connor didn't think he had problems before; who has a summer job and doesn't spend the money, what the actual fuck)_  and could manage for a while; he just needed to figure things out on his own. Yes, he was with someone. No, he wasn't being forced to go anywhere. Yes, he knew she loved him and could call whenever and could come home whenever.

There was no call or message sent to Connor's parents or his sister. He'd tossed his phone on the way to the park, over the bridge that lead to it and declined using Evan's.

Evan didn't push him. He offered to continue driving with no particular destination in mind, which Connor found himself alright with.

He'd even taken the warm coffee and hashbrowns Evan had gotten them at the drive-thru of a McDonalds they'd been passing, without complaint to Evan's incessant stuttering or commenting on how stupid he'd looked when he'd handed the attendant the money and banged his head on the window rim.

The bruise from the bump showed up two hours later when they were passing a tollbooth and asked where they were; the bored fifty-something dude behind the glass pointing out the line of purple along Evan's forehead, snickering at Evan's response like an asshole.

When they'd pulled over so Connor could take a piss, it had crossed his mind that he could just wander into the passing traffic and it would have the same end result as the pills that Evan had gotten rid of.

But then, he'd also realized that, in the hours that had passed and the minimal chatter that had escaped the both of them, Connor had turned from mentally referring to the other by his given name, rather than his surname. Like Connor referred to everyone, outside of his family or beings he had the smallest capacity to show decency towards; like the puppy he'd had when he was five that he'd picked out from a box hauled around by another schoolmate he'd also seen Evan looking at before some of the bigger kids pushed him out of the way...

He hadn't even realized he'd been disassociating then, dick in hand and staring off into space, such a new trigger to bring him into uncertainty. Remembering the past in connection to someone not considered important to him, but existed in his life along the edges.

* * *

Connor, without thinking about it after three days of Evan's music playing once Connor's had run its course, started asking questions of the other when they started along a back road at the Jersey state line.

Nothing serious, just... He'd been bored and Evan had been driving, so he'd site that as the reason if Evan became suspicious of Connor's motives.

Which he wasn't.

A weird thing, given he was undoubtedly paranoid of the world at large, and flinched at the unexpected, but Connor didn't complain since it gave him a focus outside thoughts of ending it and drew his curiosity of Evan more and more.

"Do you remember being friends when we were little?"

"Sorry?"

"When we were wee and smol things; were we friends? I think I invited you to a couple birthday parties..."

After about an hour, they went more into recent interests and life, which was good, because it was kind of unanimously decided that they weren't going back home until Connor talked about his problems and opened up enough that Evan wasn't going to question going to sleep more than five hours every three days for fear of Connor parking the car and jumping off a bridge.

"...Your mom used to call you Woodsmoke?"

Deep regrets, but not the worst thing that could have popped out of his mouth.

He groaned into the steering wheel as they sat parked along the shoreline adjacent to one of the state's many-many-many-holy-shit-there-are-a-lot lighthouses. Trying to ignore the blush that crept along his face, as well as the way Evan was giggling either at his inadvertent truth or one of the seagulls in front of the jeep chasing around crows that could care less about how loud they were.

"Oh, no, no! Don't feel bad; my mom used to call me a lot of weird nicknames, too."

"Such as?"

"...Cinnamon."

He wouldn't tell him why, after Connor laughed for fifteen minutes straight and scared off a lot of the birds surrounding them, but he had confidence he'd get it out of the other eventually.

* * *

Two acorn nuts instead of fidget spinners. One silver toothbrush in a case and one green kept in a wax paper holder; including glaringly naturally made toothpaste that Connor couldn't even complain about because it was both economic and didn't taste like disgusting mint. Thick rubber bands, given that Evan didn't want Connor to cut and those suckers were an alternative Dr. Sherman supplied once when he thought Evan might have cut.

Connor didn't know why that was such a relief when Evan remarked, "As if I'd ever have the balls to do that."

Food that came in the types of cans and the like that they could get money for recycling  _(which was **everything** , including compost because trying to get Evan to get anything else set him off and, wow, Connor didn't realize how serious and puffed up he could get over stuff Connor didn't think real people gave a damn about,  **jesus** )_. So much fruit that the jeep actually was starting to lose the smell of weed.

No weed once he ran out somewhere in North Carolina, and oddly no urge to buy more once they were deciding where to go next while browsing a small hipster themed grocery, sharing a carton of mixed flavor mochi ice cream  _(not something he'd ever considered eating, but holy fuck the plum wine and mocha were awesome; probably why Evan pretended to ignore them and ate the green tea)_  and Evan mumbled a request of where  _not_  to go. He almost tore the postcards he'd picked out to send his mom when Connor asked why.

"What's wrong with Colorado?"

"...Well, we-we might end up r-running into my dad, and really, n-neither of us need that."

Beach sage scented all-natural laundry detergent for the clothes Connor had available in his car  _(his black jacket, two grey hoodies, a pair of shorts he didn't recall ever wearing, what he had on when Evan found him)_  as well as a set of clothes he'd bought at the Goodwill for Evan  _(nothing blue; nope, just a pair of extra-large yellow and red sweaters and black jeans that accentuated his ass)_.

"He a dick?"

"I...actually, yes. Emphatically."

Two coffee mugs that were big enough to eat cereal out of  _(grain and Greek yogurt for Evan, coco puffs for Connor that he always had with too much milk)_  to go with the two silver spoons with engravings in the metal,  **'Drink Tea. Read Books. Be Happy,** ' and  **'Set your own Stage. Pull your own Strings.'**

Big, thick socks Evan insisted on getting because Connor looked so cold when he slept, even with all their blankets they'd bought piled on top of him.

Buying a razor took some doing, and only after five whole weeks on the road when they'd neared the Rocky Mountains and Connor couldn't tolerate the sight of Evan with facial hair anymore, "You look like a hermit and some reject from the '70s. I promise not to use it on myself; I've gotten used to the rubber bands, god dammit." And, anyway, it was pink, so jokes on him if he was lying.

Two pillows that were extremely comfortable and smelled like mix of the beach sage and the organic coconut-milk shampoo/conditioner they both used when they stopped to shower in towns with indoor pools with cheap entrance fees. Three blankets, all black, one a thick comforter Evan always wrapped Connor in like a sushi roll when the temperature dropped under twenty degrees, despite never taking up the offer himself.

Warmth and human comfort when Connor had horror-show nightmares and woke up with half a start, Evan wrapped around him protectively and Connor's head tucked under his chin, the smooth motions of palms and fingers rubbing his back until he found more peaceful sleep. The favor returned more often than not when they parked among trees and Evan couldn't stay awake anymore; Connor's main worry being when Evan tightened up into a ball and stopped breathing until he sat bolt upright without a sound and started crying, hunched over and small and unable or unwilling to resist when Connor took him as a little spoon in his spider long arms and legs.

The talking got easier, and the honesty was more real, once they started actually sleeping together in the night; sometimes with poetry and song pulsing gently from the stereo, but more often just sleeping with heartbeats and soft breathing.

* * *

He hadn't expected that Jared-fucking-Kleinman would actually be a decent enough human being to worry about Evan Hansen.

Yet, two days from Halloween and after deciding that they could both get their high school diplomas online with a little laptop they'd saved up for to buy at a pawn shop after taking temporary jobs washing dishes and shelving books, Heidi probably having received the postcard and photo of them posing beside a Tasmanian Blue Gum tree in California; Evan got a call from his 'family-friend' and he was...oddly panicked.

_"You're fucking alive?! Where have you been?! Where are you right now?! Do you have any idea what I thought when you didn't show up at school after the first day and Murphy disappeared, too?! The dude's family is pretty sure he killed himself and Zoe's wandering around every day pissed off or hiding in the bathroom crying! What the fuck, Evan?! Heidi won't even tell me anything, and then yesterday she gets a postcard and there you two are-both of you alive and well-in front of some tree that looks like it's from the Amazon! Are you in the Amazon, Evan, because if you are, you are hauling your hiney back home! There are piranhas and sand flies and diseases you can't even pronounce!"_

Had Connor not been shell-shocked at the news that his family actually thought he was dead and Zoe was reacting the the exact opposite of what he expected in that event, he might have actually laughed when Evan finally took a breath and stuttered out that Jared was on speaker.

* * *

"Your parents split up because of you?"

"No, they split up because...well, because I refused to lie to my mom about my dad being a fake marine and a whore-master, basically."

Connor remained at his post beside the fire Evan had set up, stirring the pot of rice while Evan diced the vegetables and bits of chicken so they could eat something not out of a can for the first time in a week.

Their usual round of one serious question each per day had finally rolled around once the fire was the right color to time the meal correctly, but rather than talking about his own home life, Connor had found himself itching with curiosity at a call Evan had received earlier that day that he'd blocked on sight and refused to call his voicemail to retrieve the message left. He'd been biding his time since bringing it up at lunch had been met with Evan allowing him the last ripe strawberries in their cooler and the request to play Sick Puppies on the stereo until they'd parked outside of Seattle.

It was a rare thing, finally getting to know that Evan was indeed capable of something akin to hate. And hating a real, living human being who created half of his DNA?  _Perspective_.

"Explain."

"Well, when I was six, my anxiety was just beginning to manifest and I was really quiet and sometimes it took a while for my parents to realize I had walked in on one of their arguments that were getting more frequent, right? Well, one day when mom had gone to work before I woke up, and my father had gone out to a bar to get plastered over something to do with his own job, though I never knew the details. He brought home some cheap twenty-something bimbo and while I was getting up out of bed to watch cartoons, he had her bent over the kitchen table right where I could see her and him and  _everything_."

"Holy fuck."

"Yeah, that's something like what the woman said when she noticed me staring from my place in the doorway. Anyway, she got out in less than a minute, but my father had sobered up and realized he messed up pretty huge, but tried to lie his way out of it and make like he was just playing a game and I didn't have to tell mom, 'it could be our little secret.' The fucker."

Connor did leave his post to keep Evan from accidentally cutting off his fingers as his mood shifted darkly and he was glaring poisonously at the night sky while trapped in memory, but returned before the rice could burn to the metal.

"We were arguing about it still when mom had just gotten home, but neither of us heard her, because I had said something that damaged my father's toxic, fragile masculinity. He didn't like that and slapped me."

"Bastard."

"That's what  _mom_  said when she decked him. And he might have had a whole head on her in height, but my mom's side of the family has always been pretty built, so you can guess who won that episode."

"Go Heidi."

* * *

They decided to go back once half of their school curriculum was finished online, so that if confronted about it, it would not be a big deal because the both of them were further along than any of their classmates in public school.

They also decided they'd have to get Evan's cast off at a free clinic beforehand.

"I didn't even realize so much time's passed," Evan explained, fidgeting and uncomfortable in the waiting area of a small clinic in Seattle that was sponsored and funded by a big time hospital that handled brain surgery; Connor not commenting, but once and a while directing Evan to stop picking at his shirt  _(the yellow one he'd picked out that he thought made Evan look cuter than usual; gay thoughts, yes, but he got points for not saying them in earshot)_  before he tore it in half.

The irritating sounds of seasonal music was playing in the waiting room, Christmas jingles when Thanksgiving hadn't even passed just yet and Connor tried to blot out the mind-numbing annoyance of sitting in the uncomfortable chairs for the next thirty minutes by contemplating what they could make for dinner that evening. Evan had already made them both tuna casserole for lunch in an attempt to stem the nervous energy he'd radiated that morning  _(neither of them cared to wake up before noon when Evan's insomnia finally caused him to settle and cuddle Connor for close to twelve hours)_  so Connor was feeling like maybe he should put his budding maturity to good use. Perhaps make them sushi and a fried rice dish with lots of meat...

"Would you..."

Connor blinked over from his seat as Evan mumbled below his hearing range, lifting a hand and snapping fingers next to his ear and giving him a jolt so his posture stood him bolt upright and he was addressing the taller boy properly. The action still seemed a little cruel when Connor had to do it, but Evan insisted that it did in fact work and it wasn't like it was the worst thing anyone had done to him when his anxiety was making his usual quirky behavior unbearable.

"I-I... I was wondering, if maybe, after this thing comes off... if-if-if maybe you wouldn't mind if I got your name..."

Connor snapped his fingers once more and then gently tapped Evan's bottom lip before he bit through and ended up needing stitches, "Got my name?"

"...Would you write it on my arm after the cast comes off? I don't, like, want to seem creepy, but I, um, I've gotten really used to it. And I think I'll be sad to see it go and I know that's so weird, I'm sorry, really, I'll just shut up now--"

They have cuddled before, often. They have often found themselves holding hands in markets and along streets while sight seeing. They bump shoulders constantly when they eat their breakfast and dinner and spend most of their waking moments together.

Hugging is not something Connor imagined himself doing often after he turned thirteen and yet, there he was in the waiting room, yanking Evan over and side-hugging him so hard he couldn't fathom a comparison and had no reason to when Evan returned it.

* * *

They didn't know how it happened, but they ended up sleeping together when they got back into the town they both considered home, parking outside Ellison Park where nobody could see them for one last night under the stars before walking back into trying to grow into being actual people.

Evan had been driving for two days straight and after having gone to the grocery one town over to buy their favorite foods and a packet of rose tea that calmed both of them down even on their worst days, simply blurted out upon parking under a Sugar Maple that still had a collective of leaves that had yet to plummet to the ground and offer a buffer for the hardened mud, "If you don't want to go back to living at home, we could just not go there. I don't want you sad again and I don't want them triggering you into doing something you'll regret when I think you've actually been happy and-and-and... Do you actually want to go back?"

He hadn't known he'd needed one of them to say it, ask the question aloud before then, but Connor did, truly and seriously, he did. And it felt like the noose around his neck that he'd imagined tightening since they'd begun the trip back had slipped loose and burned into ashes for good measure.

No, Connor didn't want to go home. He hadn't wanted to involve Evan in the dark thoughts that came to mind at the very idea of that place being his home and having to try and manage the person who he'd become while involving himself with the family that didn't understand who he used to be had existed for a reason.

Evan did understand him; Connor didn't know how or why he did, and he was a degree of terrified that wouldn't even let him guess the question, let alone say openly and into the air, but Connor knew it was important. Probably the most important thing in his life.

The kissing came before the sex, shy and hesitant and earnest, initiated by Connor when he'd said, "No," he didn't want to go back to the house with 'Murphy' painted on the mailbox, and Evan had opened the back of the jeep so Connor wouldn't curl up in the shotgun seat, just hugging him and resting his head atop Connor's. Fingers weaving through long dark hair and rubbing circles in his back with promises that they'd figure something out, stay back at Evan's, find jobs or something so Connor wouldn't have to go back unless he really wanted.

The sex was...a no-go, at first. They'd had to stop halfway through the first round after Evan used his mouth, happily, but when Connor tried to return the favor, Evan had tensed and almost had an anxiety attack.

He'd kissed Connor again, giving him back his clothes, and tugging back on his own shirt with the promise of explanation after they'd both eaten something.

It was lucky the park had an area designated for barbecues and the like, completed deserted and allowing them comfortable silence while Evan made the both of them soup and brisket. They huddled up to keep warm next to the alcove under the picnic center roof, lucky enough to see some deer wander by in a group of four and opened up the milk they'd bought.

The talking was awkward for Evan, but honest and open, which was all Connor wanted as he took his first bites of the soup while Evan flipped the brisket so they'd cook evenly.

"Okay, you know how I said Jared and I lost our virginity to each other?"

Not one of Evan's secrets he'd wanted to memorize from a round of _Never Have I Ever_ that took place near the beginning of their travels, but Connor nodded in response, given that his mouth was full and the thought of confirming that statement verbally made his stomach turn.

As it turned out from the way Evan explained it in his endearingly rambling way, almost burning he meat as he took a seat next to Connor and settled shoulder-to-shoulder  _(even taking out one of the blankets from the jeep, bless him)_ , Jared had received Evan's oral prowess and even backdoored Evan when they were fifteen. However, due to being the nervous, anxious boy that he was, Evan was unable to allow Jared to return the favor in a way that would allow Evan to say he was not a virgin. Not completely.

Teeth were a big problem for Evan  _(he was extremely sensitive from what Connor could gather while he stuttered and fidgeted over the next hour)_  and at the time the exchange had taken place, lube was something they'd heard of, but never thought of in a realistic capacity. Jared had to use spit.

Kleinman had a fairly good time, as far as fifteen year olds could have using their "family friends" in an effort to not be a virgin come junior year.

Evan came out of it with two anxiety attacks and fingernail marks on his dick from when Kleinman was at least decent enough to  _attempt_  to return the favor, but the first anxiety spell took over.

Connor ended up being torn between contempt of Kleinman for never offering to help Evan out again after that and being excited at the prospect that Connor was the only other person since then that Evan had tried anything with.

He'd settled on excited when they'd finished dinner and set up the bedding in the back of the jeep like normal, only for Evan to ask if they could try again, but with as much kissing as possible.

That had been a success, if Connor did say so himself.

* * *

_**'Parking lot, near the back exit, 5pm. It's important.'** _

The same photocopy had been printed out and taped to Zoe Murphy and Jared Kleinman's lockers. Right on time for them to take them off and think on them throughout the rest of their Friday.

One thought it had something to do with Alana Beck, and the idea for a support group she'd brought up when Connor and Evan hadn't turned up to school with the rumor going around that something bad had happened.

One thought it going to be someone asking them out to Homecoming, because why else would anyone tape a note to a locker when texting existed and all they had to do was ask Alana Beck for anyone's number.

By the time school was out with only two of them mingling in the parking lot, only noticing the other when Jared got bored and started humming to the music blaring through his insanely expensive headphones  _(Loose Lips, by Kimya Dawson; surprisingly upbeat and catchy despite how shitty he'd been feeling since September)_  and Zoe tapped him on the knee to ask what it was.

His reply was flippant, though he hadn't meant it to be. Honestly, waiting for Alana about anything made him cranky even with her good intentions.

"Something best for listening to before sex or after eating buffalo mac'n'cheese."

Zoe Murphy laughing at one of his jokes was unexpected and jolting, but Jared could guess, after looking at her, that this was the reason Evan thought she was worth following online for a year and a half. She started with a snort and the trailing laughter gave her the echo of a hyena, but her eyes scrunched up and the way her hair bounced made her cute and pretty.

He would put those thoughts away for later, along with hiding the fact that he'd fiddled with his headphones as he shucked them into his backpack, like a civil human being, rather than continuing to listen and ignore her like a heathen.

She calmed after a moment, playing with the large buttons on her trendy looking red coat  _(long enough to touch the ground when she sat along the edge of the brick wall they were waiting beside; it almost made her look she was a model for Vogue)_  and asked absently, "So, what are you doing here so late?"

"Waiting on a schoolmate. Probably, doubtless, Alana Beck. You?"

"Uh...actually, why do you say probably?"

"She left a note on my locker. Nobody else bugs me about stuff these days."

Zoe frowned a little and fished inside her deep pocket, pulling out a crinkled paper, ink slightly smeared since the paper was cheap and the black wording was actually expensive; the words off of the ' **5pm** ' ran and stuck to the ridges of her fingers and she showed it to him, "A note like this?"

Jared felt the temptation to sigh and rub his forehead, but suppressed it when he saw that there was ink along his own fingers that he hadn't noticed before. So, he settled for nodding and leaned backwards so he was laid out on the dead grass and some crackling leaves that itched his skin, but not enough to make him lift back up, "Yeah, just like that. Gotta hand it to Alana, she must really want to go over the stuff for that club she's trying to start."

"Club?"

"Well, maybe that's putting it too lightly. Support group might be more accurate."

"For?"

"Mental health treatment and suicide prevention. She got the idea around the time that Evan and...your brother...stopped showing up to school."

"That's," Zoe hesitated, staring up at the lamp lights in the parking lot that lit up around them as five in the evening was drawing within the reach of ten minutes, bathing the area and the both of them in an ugly orange, with shadow spotting probably due to dead insects and spider nests inside the glass, "Very honorable, I guess. That would actually make more sense than what I thought I was called here for."

"Such as?"

"...Either Alana or some guy asking me out to homecoming."

Jared did lift himself up at that, "Interesting. Why not both; there's always the chance she asks after bringing up her little project, isn't there?"

He could see that the very idea seemed rather far-fetched cross her face, but neither got the chance to say anything as light not belonging to the lamps surrounding the parking lot flashed across the blacktop. The sound of tires followed after, as well as the body of a jeep both of them recognized crossed into the lot and settled into a space just in front of them by some yards.

Space enough to let them register the sounds of Martina Sorbara being turned off  _(a singer neither of them liked themselves, but knew simply because they'd heard it coming from rooms not their own)_  and time to rise from their seated positions and see for themselves two people they never pictured arriving together for any reason.

They looked a different kind of same from the last time either Zoe or Jared saw them in life rather than memory long gone and unaffected by their present selves.

Evan removed himself from the driver's seat, shutting the door and allowing them to see him without a trace of blue or khaki covering him; bright red flannel with the sleeves rolled up replacing his polo shirt and showing off his lack of a cast and a suntan Jared didn't expect this late in the season. Connor stepped out of the shotgun seat, only wearing his usual black for his jeans and boots, but replacing the greys and blacks for his top for a green graphics T-shirt saying  **"I Believe In Dark Lunch"**  and a comfy looking green longcoat that showed off how long his hair had grown and that he'd actually been eating enough so it didn't hang off of him.

No longer a walking scarecrow. No longer secretive baby deer. Just two teenage boys, assumed dead or having run away, alive and waiting for them to say or do something.

Evan had started to hesitantly wave, but didn't get out a mumbled ' _hi_ ' or ' _hello_ ' before Jared was across the distance and tackled him in a hug that would have knocked Evan over the summer before, but he merely bent a little and accepted the desperate affection as Jared didn't-quite-vent about how worried he'd been and how glad he was Evan was back.

Connor wasn't expecting Zoe to react in quite the same way; her running up to him new after he turned thirteen, in desperation or anger. She stopped in front of him, their height difference very obvious, but not high enough that she couldn't see that he was different from the last time they'd been in this parking lot. Not a trace of the scent of weed, bags under his eyes less deep and dark, no red lining his heterochomia and skewing her perception of him.

"...Hi, Zoe."

The bow of her back under emotion sounded with her allowing herself just one sobbing, choking noise before she wrapped her arms around her brother and tucked her head under his chin.

His long arms wound around her in his returning the grasping comfort, his own coat big enough to fall along both sides of her  _(from far, far away, the sight of them looked rather like a gorgeous butterfly settling on the long length of a tree branch with leaves large enough to protect it from the sight of an enemy bird or too much hot sunlight)_  and his whispering comfort an experience she had missed for such a long time.

None of them would deny afterwards that this was something they all needed.


End file.
